The Billionaire's Insignificant Wife novel Chapter 47

Morning After

Morning came with light that was too bright.

Alina opened her eyes slowly–her head still heavy, her body felt like lead, her mouth dry with the familiar bitter taste of antibiotics.

It took a few seconds to orient herself.

She was in her room. In her bed.

But there was something different.

Warmth.

There was something warm beside her. Something breathing. Something that—

Memory from last night hit with brutal clarity.

Daniel.

Medicine forced in.

The kiss.

Tears.

Alina froze, not daring to move, not daring to open her eyes fully.

But she could feel–an arm wrapped around her waist, a chest rising and falling with regular breaths behind her, the warmth of another body too close.

Daniel was still here.

Still in her bed.

Still holding her.

Panic began creeping–slow but steady—in her chest.

She had to get up. Had to get out of this embrace. Had to-

“Don’t move.”

Daniel’s voice–low, hoarse with remnants of sleep, whispering right in her ear.

Alina flinched slightly, but the arm around her waist tightened, holding her in place.

“Daniel-” her voice came out rougher than she expected. Dry. Painful.

“Five minutes,” Daniel whispered again, not loosening his grip. “Just five minutes.”

“I have to-”

“Five minutes, Alina.” His voice was firmer now. But also… something else. Something that sounded almost like pleading.

Alina was silent.

Not because she agreed. But because she was too shocked to protest further.

Daniel had never been like this before.

Never vulnerable. Never asking. Always commanding, demanding, but never… this.

They lay there in uncomfortable silence.

Alina could feel every detail–Daniel’s breath on the back of her neck, his heart beating steadily against her back, his large and warm hand on her stomach.

Too intimate for people who were practically strangers despite being married five years.

“Your hand,” Daniel finally said, his voice still low. “Does it still hurt?”

Alina didn’t answer immediately.

Because honestly? Yes. Her hand still hurt. Throbbing with constant ache though the antibiotic had entered her system.

But she wouldn’t give Daniel the satisfaction of knowing that.

“No,” she lied flatly.

Daniel didn’t move for a moment. Then–with slow, deliberate movements–he lifted Alina’s injured hand, bringing it forward where he could see it.

The bandage was still the same as yesterday. Already somewhat dirty. Should be changed.

“Liar,” Daniel whispered. “You always lie when you’re in pain.”

Alina pulled her hand roughly–or tried to, but Daniel held it with gentle firmness.

“Let go,” she said sharply.

“This bandage needs to be changed,” Daniel ignored her protest. “After breakfast, I’ll ask Mrs. Helen-”

“I can take care of it myself.”

“Clearly you can’t.” Daniel’s tone dropped to something frustrated. “You didn’t even take your medicine if I hadn’t forced you last night.”

Memory of that “forcing” made something twist in Alina’s stomach.

The kiss.

Daniel’s lips on hers.

The way he didn’t let go even after the medicine was in.

Alina pulled her hand harder this time—and Daniel let it go.

She immediately sat up, moving away from Daniel as far as she could on the bed, hugging her knees defensively.

“Get out,” she said without looking at Daniel. “Get out of my room now.”

Silence.

Alina could feel Daniel’s gaze on her back, but she didn’t turn around.

“Alina ”

“I said get out!” her voice rose, louder than intended. “You already forced me to take medicine last night. Mission accomplished. Now get out.”

More silence.

Then the sound of the mattress shifting as Daniel sat up.

Alina still didn’t turn, hugging her knees tighter, staring at the wall with determination not to look at the man.

She heard Daniel stand. Heard footsteps toward the door.

Then stop.

“I’ll send Mrs. Helen with breakfast,” Daniel said in a carefully neutral voice. “And new bandages. Make sure you eat and change the bandage. If not—”

“If not what?” Alina turned suddenly, staring at Daniel with blazing eyes. “You’ll force me again? The same way as last night?”

Those words hung in the air–accusatory, loaded with meaning they both understood.

Daniel froze at the door, his hand still on the handle.

For the first time since Alina had known him, he looked… uncomfortable. Almost guilty.

“That wasn’t-” he began, then stopped. “I didn’t mean to=”

“Get out,” Alina cut in with a surprisingly steady voice despite her heart beating too fast. “Now.”

Daniel stared at her for a long time–something complicated in his expression that Alina couldn’t or wouldn’t read.

Then he nodded once. Stiff. Formal.

“Fine.”

He opened the door- and nearly collided with Mrs. Helen standing outside with a breakfast tray, shocked to see Daniel leaving Alina’s room in the morning.

The old woman immediately lowered her gaze–professional, not commenting–but shock was clear on her face.

Daniel passed without a word, his steps quick, his back stiff.

Mrs. Helen waited until he disappeared around the corridor corner before entering Alina’s room carefully, closing the door behind her.

“Ma’am,” she said quietly, concern heavy in her voice. “Are you alright?”

Alina didn’t answer immediately.

Just sat there on the bed with her knees hugged, hair disheveled, eyes red either from last night’s crying or lack of sleep.

“He slept here last night,” she finally whispered, her voice empty. “Daniel slept here.”

Mrs. Helen set down the tray gently, then sat on the edge of the bed–breaking protocol but clearly not caring.

“I heard from Mr. Harris,” she said quietly. “Sir said he would sleep here while Mrs. Clarissa is in the master bedroom.”

Those words made Alina laugh–a bitter sound, without humor.

“Of course,” she said with heavy sarcasm. “Clarissa took his room, so he took mine. Because that’s what I’m here for, right? Just… convenience. Something to be used when needed.”

“Ma’am, I don’t think-”

“He kissed me.” The words came out suddenly, flatly. “Last night. When forcing me to take medicine. He kissed me, Mrs. Helen. For the first time in our five years of marriage.”

Mrs. Helen’s expression changed to something pained.

“Ma’am-”

“And you know what hurts the most?” Alina finally looked at Mrs. Helen, eyes glistening. “Not the kiss. Not that he forced it. But… the timing. Why now? Why after Clarissa came back? Why after he took everything from me?” Tears began to fall again–Alina thought she had run out of tears last night, but clearly there were more. “Why didn’t he kiss me on our first anniversary? Or second? Or third? Why not on one of the hundreds of nights I waited for him to come home, hoping he would come into my room, hoping he would see me?”

Mrs. Helen pulled Alina into an embrace–a motherly, protective gesture.

“I don’t know, Ma’am,” she whispered. “I don’t know why that man is so foolish.”

Alina cried on Mrs. Helen’s shoulder–not as intense as last night, more like exhausted grief than fresh heartbreak.

“I’ve decided,” she said between sobs. “I’m going to divorce him. Emma already contacted a lawyer. I just need… the right timing.”

Mrs. Helen tightened her embrace. “Whatever Ma’am decides, I will support. But Ma’am must be strong. Must eat. Must take care of your health.”

Alina nodded weakly, releasing the embrace.

Mrs. Helen took the tray, opening it – oatmeal with honey, toast, boiled eggs, and tea.

“Eat,” she said firmly. “Everything. I’ll wait.”

Alina stared at the food with non–existent appetite, but she knew Mrs. Helen wouldn’t leave until she finished.

So she ate.

Mechanically. Without tasting anything.

But at least she ate.

In the corridor outside, Daniel walked with steps too fast toward the master bedroom–no, not the master bedroom anymore. That was Clarissa’s room now.

He stopped in front of the door, hand raised to knock, then hesitated.

What would he say?

“Sorry I didn’t sleep with you last night, but I decided to sleep with my actual wife for the first time in five years?”

That would go well.

Daniel lowered his hand, turned, walked toward his old room–no, wait. That wasn’t his room anymore either.

He didn’t have a room.

Frustration mounting, Daniel went downstairs to his study.

At least that was still exclusively his.

For now.

He closed the door, leaned against it, closed his eyes.

And could still feel Alina in his embrace. Could still smell her subtle shampoo. Could still remember the way her body fit perfectly against his.

Could still remember the taste of her tears on his lips.

The broken “I hate you.”

The hard slap.

Daniel opened his eyes, staring at the familiar study.

What was he doing?

Why did he sleep in Alina’s room?

Yes, Clarissa took the master bedroom. But there were guest rooms. Many guest rooms in this mansion.